


Here's How it Happens

by Daffadowndilly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Sleeping Beauty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24127480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daffadowndilly/pseuds/Daffadowndilly
Summary: The story of how Derek and Stiles get together.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	Here's How it Happens

**Author's Note:**

> my hands only allow for so much typing atm and im ready to post this lol  
> I haven't re-read or edited it since writing it. Some of the changes in tense were intentional, and some are accidental and I know they detract from clarity and I'm sorry. In this form, the fic is almost more like notes, but they do tell the story of how I imagine them getting together. I hope you enjoy!

Ok so here’s how it happens,

Most of the little pack in Beacon Hills goes off to college. Some of them start working. They all start moving on from their tragedies and traumas. Slowly, finally, so does Derek Hale.

Ok so here’s why it happens,

Stiles did go to school, but he’s the only one who stays close to home. He could have gone anywhere-- got accepted everywhere -- but in the end, he decided to go to the nearest university: Lightbridge University in Bright Mountain, California. No one had heard of it, but they had good programs and it was located just over an hour’s drive away. When Scott, who had surprised everyone by heading to Colorado State to pursue veterinary medicine, asked him why he would stay, Stiles just answered that somebody needed to babysit.

Derek had gotten a job at the second-best auto mechanic in town, a shop called Lennys that was owned by the four Lenny brothers. The eldest two were getting on in years so they hired Derek. It was a good job for him in that it required little human interaction but still made sure he left his apartment every day. A few months into working there and Derek started to remember that he liked working with his hands. So he built a workshop on the preserve so he could tinker and make things, deciding he may as well use the land even if the house was still haunted to him.

From the start, after only the second week in school, Stiles came home every weekend. He drove down after school ended on Friday afternoons and spent that evening and all Saturday with the Sheriff. Then on Sunday he hung out with Derek.

Derek didn’t notice at first really, in the beginning Stiles always had something to discuss with him when he came over. He was compiling an online resource about supernatural beings, complete with tags indicating what they knew to be true and what was conjecture or mythology only, so he came over every Sunday in the midmorning with his laptop under one arm to ask Derek questions about the world of werewolves and all their mystical acquaintances. 

They went out to the local 24hrs diner every Sunday morning for months before Stiles showed up with his term paper and asked Derek to look it over, “come on dude, I know you can read. Just read it man. Tell me if I even make sense, I’ve had so much caffeine this week I can’t be sure of anything.” After that he brought the laptop about half the time.

Ok so here’s when it happens,

Stiles asks if he can move in with Derek for his junior year, since he’ll no longer be required to live on campus with the undergrads under 21. Derek… says yes. Stiles is surprised, like he thoroughly expected Derek to say ‘no,’ but asked anyway. Derek is amused, unsure why Stiles asked him or why he’d agreed to it.

Stiles still has one semester left before his move-out date and Derek starts looking around frantically, realizing that his apartment wasn’t really fit to live in. He starts remodeling the place, but for some reason makes an effort to keep it a secret from Stiles; when Stiles sees that Derek’s fixing the place up Derek pretends not to notice that Stiles is pretending not to be touched by it.

When Stiles moves in Derek is shocked to find that he’s a great roommate. He had fully anticipated being constantly frustrated by his presence and habits, but it turned out that Stiles was reasonably considerate and that Derek… had gotten used to him. When Stiles paced around agitatedly or info dumped about the history of cheerios or whatever, Derek feels only affection and familiarity. They fight monsters and banish wicked witches together as often as usual, but now they made mac and cheese and watched Netflix afterwards.

The team gathers occasionally to hang out, the others seemed amused and then unnerved by the ever-increasing friendship clearly developing between the two of them. At first, the pack didn’t notice any difference in their behavior. The two of them maintained their teasing rapport, but the hostility that once colored it is gone. Still, the change wasn’t made obvious until one pack night Liam -- taller now than any of them -- held the tv remote over his head. Without missing a beat, Stiles flung himself into Derek’s arms. Derek silently turned while hoisting him up like in something like a dancer’s lift so Stiles could pluck the remote out of Liam’s hand and spin away. 

They made no effort to explain themselves, Stiles crowed in victory and chose a new movie and Derek acted as though nothing at all unusual had happened. Stiles forgot about it promptly, and was both confused and a little offended by everyone’s sideways glances. Derek seemed not to be conscious of it at all.

And here’s where it happens,

Derek spends lots of time in the shop, so much that Stiles moves a desk into one corner and he works on his online bestiary while Derek make things out of wood, metal, even clay, or works on cars sometimes as favors or side jobs.

Honestly, Stiles never really uses his desk that often. He’ll get all set up, and then drift over to ask Derek what he was working on and talk to him. 

Derek starts learning to make furniture and Stiles goes to grad school for a degree in mythology and the occult. They get weirder then, they start to interact like people who’ve been close for too long. Most of the time they seemed like any pair of friends, but sometimes it seemed like they were speaking their own language. Most obviously, Derek would make a quiet expression or say something seemingly innocuous and Stiles would have huge overblown reactions that didn’t seem to anyone else to make sense, but which Derek always seemed to anticipate. Stiles could say one word or give him one look and make Derek smile so wide his eyes crinkled up like none of the pack had really seen before, he could still make his eyes burn with anger in an instant, too.

The Sheriff has dinner at their place on Fridays and Saturdays and Stiles was learning how to make food. He feeds the pack sometimes too, though pack nights are a little further apart now than they used to be. He’s also growing about a million plants in pots, some kept at the loft and some at his dad’s place.

Then Derek starts doing renovations in secret again, this time Stiles doesn’t notice. He’s busy finishing up his degree, and is spending so much time with his eyes glued to his computer screen that he has no idea what Derek was doing in secret. It’s around this time that Derek gives in and starts washing Stiles’ clothes with his own. It just didn’t make sense to do separate loads anyway.

On his son’s 30th birthday, the Sheriff brings over a photo album to show Derek, much to Stiles’ irritation. Later that year, on Derek’s 35th birthday, he brings a photo album over again. To make this one, he had gone around town to ask people for photos of the Hale house and family, he even got copies of old school photos.

“I still can’t believe you’re only 36, kid. I mean, you look 36 now… but you looked 36 ten years ago.” he says, shaking his head and squinting. “That a Hale thing or a… y’know… werewolf thing?”

The day Stiles came home with a degree Derek takes him out to the preserve to show him the rebuilt Hale house. More enthusiastic than Derek could have hoped, Stiles jumps in painting and decorating and moving in their possessions immediately. Derek populates it with the furniture he had made and Stiles puts his plants in the ground. Except for a few like mint and soapwort, who have to stay in their pots like the menaces they are.

And here’s what happens,

With his minor in horticulture Stiles starts a nursery. With his master’s in occult he consults with supernatural packs, clans, covens, etc. to help them live safely among one another and the human population. He publishes papers on the histories and folklore of new creatures and species as he learns about them, and the webpage for his Online Reference Guide for All Things Supernatural is on the back of his business cards. He cooks nearly every night, so Derek does the dishes nearly every night.

Derek only works on cars as a hobby or for favors now. He never really needed the money anyway. He works with Stiles, and they start going longer and longer distances for their jobs as Supernatural Consulting and Security Specialists and eventually have to hire some people to cover the nursery while they’re gone.

In Italy they consult for a family of witches having some trouble with their (usually friendly) local badalisk. After the usual shenanigans, the pair takes a quick trip to a small local archival collection of potentially-magical items, as a treat. Stiles is pawing through an old cloth purse when he soundlessly collapses to the floor. 

Derek grabs the purse and carries Stiles all the way back to the head witch’s house. She and her sisters usher them inside and do a quick examination, asking questions all the time. The youngest interrupts Derek’s description of the artifacts around them with a small cry of triumph. She holds his right hand up by the wrist and says, “ _ lino _ ” she says. One of the other sisters fetch a pair of tweezers and the youngest witch uses them to grab hold of what looks like a little hair sticking out of the end of the unconscious Stiles’ fingertip. When she pulls on it turns out to be longer than Derek expected. It keeps coming and coming until he feels a little sick. Finally, what looks like a foot long blond hair is carried by the tweezers to the sink and lit on fire.

“Flax,” the elder sister explains, “spun for linen. He will sleep a long time.” 

Derek swallows, “how long?” he asks.

“Until he tastes love.” says the witch, “If he has a beau at home, take him to her and have her kiss his lips. She must focus,” cautions the witch, “if she does not hold enough love for him in her mind it will be useless and she may think it does not work... But if she does not hold enough love in her heart, it is hopeless: only true love will wake him.”

Derek nods and scoops Stiles up and carries him to their hotel. He lays Stiles’ body -- as cold almost as any corpse -- slowly down on one of the queen sized beds. He stares down at him for what feels like a long time. He touches a cheek, deeply disturbed by the still-cooling skin of Stiles’ face, devoid of color except where moles dotted it in random patterns.

As he’d carried his unmoving burden, he had thought of their home in the rebuilt Hale house, of hours in his shop and Stiles’ garden, of dinners and laundry, and the Sheriff’s weekend visits. Fighting monsters in almost-accidental harmony, growing herbs, their favorite 24hrs diner, the pack’s regular get-togethers, listening to midnight rants about the history of lobotomy, all the things that made up their shared life.

He thinks of them as he bends down to give Stiles a gentle kiss. The lips are cold now, like stone, and the feel of them makes Derek choke out a small sob. He leans his forhead against Stiles’ a moment and tries to breathe. He gasps when he feels warm breath brush his face, and snorts through tears when Stiles whispers to him.

“I’m so cold dude,” he says, “I’m like, totally freezing. Are you crying over me right now?”

“Of course not,” says Derek, even as water drops fall from his face onto Stiles.

“You’re totally crying over me!” Stiles struggles to sit up, arms catching on to Derek as though to compensate for forcing distance between them, or maybe to stop him retreating, “I’m gonna need you to tell me whatever happened to get us here, man, ‘cuz I’m like, freaking out.”

Derek explains only that he’d taken Stiles to the witches and that they’d removed the flax strand. He makes it sound like he’d carried Stiles back to the hotel and waited to see if he would wake up. He tells him that he’d been getting colder and colder, and that he’d begun to think Stiles would never wake up.

“It’s ok, big guy,” Stiles says, looking dazed as he rubs his hand up and down Derek’s arm as though to sooth him. “Derek,” he says hesitatingly, “did you -- and this is gonna sound like a crazy question, but I just woke up from being dead so don’t judge me, but-- did you maybe perhaps kiss me at some point?”

“...yeah. Maybe at some point.”

“Ok. Ah. Wanna talk about that?”

“It’s the cure. For the magic flax crap.” he says stiffly, like he hopes Stiles will drop it there.

“Woah that is so weird,” Stiles still hasn’t let go of Derek, but he’s not looking at him, “That’s like, old school.”

“The purse you got the flax from looked pretty old.”

“So does that… I mean, y’know, does it… mean anything?”

“Probably that the curse was pretty old.”

“No, jackass, does you kissing me to break the spell mean something?”

“Just the usual, Stiles, nothing special.” Derek tries to distract him, “you really should warm up. You’re body temperature got pretty low, you should probably get under the blankets for a while then take a hot shower. If you warm up to fast it could be bad.”

“Do you wanna warm me up?” He asks, the obvious signs of hope in his face and voice.

“...Ok, get under the covers.”

Stiles does and Derek slides under them a moment later. Stiles wiggles his toes happily as he snuggles up against Derek’s chest. He has every intention of milking this for all it’s worth. He starts to fall asleep after a while but Derek isn’t sure if it’s a good idea yet, so he makes Stiles drink some of the nasty complimentary coffee to warm up inside and then sends him in for a shower. When Stiles asks if Derek’s going to help him in there too, Derek doesn’t respond except to beetle his brows. Derek changes into his night things and climbs into his own bed.

When Stiles emerges, he throws his dirty clothes onto his bed, walks smoothly over, and climbs into Derek’s bed.

Derek stares.

“I’m cold,” says Stiles.

He spends the night curled up against Derek, and Derek lets him because he couldn’t bear to send him away and because he can feel the warmth of Stiles’ skin through their pyjamas.

They’re back in Beacon Hills in time for Friday night dinner with the Sheriff. Derek, who hasn’t gone out of earshot of Stiles since the incident, is sent to the store for table salt since they’d used all theirs fighting a manananggal earlier that week. When he returns he finds the Sheriff barbecuing on the lawn while Stiles sits on a lawn chair with one leg crossed over the other. They wave as Derek approaches, but just as Stiles opens his mouth to issue a greeting, his phone rings. He walks off to answer it.

His dad watches him walk off for a moment, then turns to Derek,”sounds like Italy was a tough one.” He says conversationally.

“Yeah,” Derek answers

“Stiles never did know when to leave things alone. Although, I guess that’s why we’re all here.”

Derek snorts but has to admit it’s true all the same.

“-Right. Ok.” Stiles’ voice, which had become background noise to Derek, drifts back into focus as he wanders closer again, “That’s sort of what I’d thought.” he says, “Ok, yeah. Yeah. Thanks!  _ Addio _ .”

As he lowers the phone he makes eye contact with Derek. The sound of the Italian word makes Derek freeze. He looks back at Stiles, eyes wide.

“That was the Bianchi sisters. Did you know you’re a major moron, Derek? You’re what British people call a fathead, Derek. A complete nincompoop. Were you aware of that? Because it’s true, I can vouch for it.”

Before Derek can respond Stiles’ dad cuts in, “Jeez, kid, stop bullying the man. You’ve got about three minutes left on this chicken so if you wanna kiss him you’d better get on with it. Once the food’s done it’s time to eat.”

Derek feels his eyes widen even further. Stiles grins at his dad over his shoulder as he walks past him to stand in front of Derek.

Ok so this is how it ends,

The Sheriff was true to his word. When the chicken finished grilling he yelled it out so loudly that the two younger men jumped apart. Derek rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, and Stiles was fast turning pink, but the Sheriff seemed totally at ease, if unnecessarily amused. They had dinner together that evening as planned, and then they kept having weekend dinners together until the Sheriff passed away well into his 90s.

The pack came around, and they were aghast when Stiles told them he and Derek had gotten together. Most of them had thought the pair had been “together” since Stiles’ junior year in college. They laughed and joked and made everything into a competition like always. And they kept coming around, sometimes with long separations in between visits, but always coming back, soon bringing more people and eventually most of them bringing kids.

The garden grew and the house filled up and Derek and Stiles solved problems, fought monsters, adopted random teenagers, and consulted for the most dangerous beings on the planet for a lifetime.

Stiles collected pyjamas with Sleeping Beauty references for the rest of forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
